“It’s… Oh, God!” Mercedes didn’t think it could get any better, but then he ground his pelvis against hers, lodged to the hilt, filling her to bursting, before he pulled out and slid home once more. “It’s perfect.”
Mercedes bit her bottom lip as she watched him, waiting for that moment when she knew he’d reached the pinnacle and was ready to plummet into euphoric bliss right along with her.
Their bodies were slick with sweat as they moved together, the frantic pounding of her heart the only sound she heard.
“Come for me, Mercedes. Come with me.”
Mercedes latched onto his hair tighter, holding him to her as he buried his face in her neck. His pace intensified, his thrusts bottoming out inside of her, the delicious friction causing that ever growing tingle to start in her womb, making her insides glow.
“Harder,” she begged although she wasn’t sure she could handle much more. Apparently she could because her orgasm built to a crescendo as Xander mercilessly drove deep inside of her, penetrating her thoroughly.
“That’s it, baby,” Xander growled, his body going stone still as his cock pulsed inside of her. “Fuck.”
A sharp bolt of pain lanced her shoulder when Xander nipped her skin, but it didn’t hurt. Not in that way. No, this was a sensation that she felt clear to her soul.
Because Xander hadn’t just bitten her. He’d claimed her.
And there was no way in hell she could deny it. She was completely his. In every way.
Time stood still until they managed to catch their breaths, but Xander didn’t move from his position. She didn’t want him to.
Mercedes let her internal muscles milk him, enjoying the hungry growls that continued to rumble in his chest. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Mercedes felt herself falling for a man.
This man.
Chapter Twenty Six
Day Three…
Saturday
On Saturday evening, Xander was tidying up the kitchen after tossing the remnants of their dinner into the trash. After a surprisingly leisurely day, one they’d spent together at his condo doing literally nothing for most of the day, Xander had finally given in and cooked dinner for Mercedes.
He wasn’t much of a cook, he would be the first to admit, but he was capable of working a stove. The sausage and vegetable risotto, a dish his mother had made quite often when he was a kid, wasn’t fancy, but it had been decent. Not as good as his mother’s, but edible. That’s all that mattered.
So, after he’d slaved over the stove for all of thirty minutes, they’d shared a meal while they talked about the upcoming week.
Mercedes had gone on to tell him about the official offer she’d put in on the Milton building yesterday, and how she was now waiting for the counteroffer, fully expecting it to come on Monday. There was no doubt about it, the seller would certainly counter. Not that Xander blamed them.
Now, as they made their way to the living room, he was falling into his normal evening routine, which for the next hour would consist of watching the news.
“I think I’m going to head to my place and take a bath,” Mercedes told him hesitantly.
“No,” he responded easily, keeping his voice soft. “You can take a bath here.” He wasn’t about to let her disappear on him again. After all, they had agreed that she would stay with him unless she was working, and he’d been impressed that she’d spent the entire day at his place, never once using an excuse to go home.
Progress, especially after the rocky day they’d had yesterday.
“But –”
Xander glared at her, effectively silencing her.
“My bath works just as well as yours does.”
To his surprise, Mercedes didn’t argue. Instead, she pinned him with a glare of her own before turning her attention on the stairs that led up to the master suite.
Neither of them said anything more and the next thing Xander knew, Mercedes was making her way upstairs. When she was halfway there, he called out to her. He waited until she turned to look down at him.
“I’ll be up in a little while to help you out. Don’t get out until I come get you.”
He could tell that his instructions weren’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but he’d give her props for not complaining. Xander didn’t budge until she’d made it to the top of the stairs.
Once she was there, he reached for the remote and flipped on the television, dropping onto the sofa. As he sank into the cool leather, he immediately remembered the way Mercedes had looked perched atop him, riding him. And then yesterday in his office, when he had thrust inside of her on a very similar sofa… Shit. He wasn’t sure he’d ever look at black leather the same again.